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“You start writing. I’m going to call Ethan and let him know what we’ve found.”
“I’m on it.” She was up and heading toward her laptop with most of her usual enthusiasm restored.
Owen headed outside and sat on the cabin’s small front porch to make the call. “Hey,” he said when Ethan answered. “Got a minute?”
“Yeah, I’m driving home…well, not home, but where Helen is.”
Owen imagined that was all Ethan needed to call a place home—the knowledge that that was where his wife was. Ethan and Helen deserved to be happy and free of this mess, and they would be soon.
“Sophie and I have found some things.” He filled Ethan in on Razor’s death and his concerns about Wilson becoming more of a threat. He added the intel about the images from the phone, including the photo of the woman who might have posed as Helen’s sister.
“You guys are making progress,” Ethan said. “I just want this to be over. Helen’s holding up, but I know she’s worried and that’s not good for her or the baby.”
“Moving as fast as we can,” Owen said. “I’ve got an idea for one thing that might take some of the stress off Helen. We need to get protection for Julia. She doesn’t want it, but I think it’s time we move on this. I suggested to Sophie that we find someone she’ll like. If we can talk up someone specific, let her know more about him so he doesn’t seem like a stranger, maybe that’ll smooth the way.”
“I don’t know Julia, but she seems reluctant to let anyone in.”
“Understandable, but we can’t ignore the danger she’s in. This Quinn seems to be pretty savvy, and then there’s Wilson himself. I’m hoping the new evidence will help things to move along quickly.” God knows, they should. “But if we shoot our shot and miss, Wilson will just get more dangerous—and more desperate.”
“I want to see Wilson go down,” Ethan said. Owen could tell from his friend’s voice that Ethan wanted a crack at him directly. He did, too. Wilson had terrorized Sophie and her friends, not to mention pushed drugs on who knew how many. Wilson was going down, and Owen hoped to be there when the moment came. For now, he needed to make sure everyone stayed safe. “I’ve been thinking about it. Sean Miller would be our best option for Julia’s protection.”
“I was thinking that, too. I trust him.” Owen had reviewed any other possibilities in his head. There were other former and current SEALs who could do the job, but the ones in active service weren’t around, and the retired guys he’d be willing to call on weren’t local or had injuries that limited their ability to protect Julia and the kids. “How do we contact him?”
“I’ll start with Joe. If we can convince Sean, he’d be the right man for the job,” Ethan said. Sean had dropped off the radar as soon as his last hitch was up, which wasn’t long after his younger brother was killed in a SEAL training accident. Since then, he’d barely kept in touch with anyone. “I’ll give Joe a call as soon as I get home although I can’t guarantee that even he knows where Sean is.”
“Let me know if you locate him.” Owen hung up and had just slipped his phone in his pocket when he heard a crash from inside the cabin. Instantly on alert, he burst through the door to find Sophie standing in the middle of the room. Broken shards of a coffee mug were on the floor near the hearth. “What happened?”
“I just talked to Jude.” She was almost shouting. He’d seen Sophie annoyed, peeved, even angry, but nothing like this. “He was mugged on the way to the police station and his briefcase was stolen. There goes our evidence.” She collapsed onto the sofa. “Could our luck get worse? A mugging? Seriously.”
Yeah, that was Owen’s reaction, too. How many muggings happened in the city? Some, certainly, but it wasn’t common. It seemed like too big of a coincidence. Had someone followed them and seen them pass off the murder weapon to Jude?
“Now, we have nothing linking Wilson to Razor’s death,” she said. “Razor was an unreliable source, and now he’s a dead one and his murder will go unsolved.”
Owen could see that her regret about involving Razor beneath the anger that was swelling at the surface. “Think for a minute. You can still write the story about finding Razor’s body. That’s got to stir up some attention.”
“I already asked Jude that, but he squashed the idea. He thinks a partial story would give Wilson the time he needs to cover his tracks even better. He’d know we know about his involvement, so he’d take action to prevent anyone from pointing a finger at him. I think Jude’s wrong, but I can tell that I’m not going to be able to change his mind. We’re screwed.” She shrugged in defeat.
“Why don’t you publish it yourself on social media?” Lots of stories got attention that way. It seemed like a good possibility to him.
“I could, but it would just sound half-baked since I don’t have the credibility of the paper behind me. And besides, we have very little actual proof.” She grabbed a sofa pillow and pressed it into her stomach. “Plus, I’d get fired for sure. I can’t take that risk.”
He hated seeing her defeated. At the same time, he knew there had to be a solution, something they could do. They’d gotten so close to nailing Wilson. No way were they giving up. “How about taking it to the museum’s board of directors? You’ve got enough to prove that Wilson’s shady if not criminal.”
She shook her head. “No. Getting him fired doesn’t stop him from being a threat. Taking away his job just gives him less to lose when he comes after us. It’s all or nothing. Don’t worry about it, Owen. I’ll figure out something. I just need time alone to think.” She was shutting him out, and he couldn’t think of any way of getting back in.
TWENTY-FOUR
Sophie focused on Micky’s face on the screen. It was good to see him, hear his voice. She needed something familiar and comforting since everything seemed to be falling apart.
“I don’t know, Micky. It just doesn’t feel right. Seriously, has Jude ever been mugged?” That was the issue that kept her up for hours in the night.
“Not that I know of. He stays out of the rough areas, leaves that to people like us.”
“Exactly. It can’t be a coincidence.” She was thinking out loud now. “What if someone had hacked into the newspaper’s phone system and listened into my call to Jude yesterday? Whoever it was might have followed him to our meetup. My work email could be compromised as well. It has to be Wilson’s doing.”
“I can look into it from my end, discreetly,” Micky said. “It would take someone who knew what they were doing to get around the firewalls, but those folks are out there for the right price.”
“Thanks. Anything new on your end?”
